


Fin L'ultimo

by auselysium



Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017), Call Me By Your Name - All Media Types, Call Me by Your Name - André Aciman
Genre: Angst, Ficlet, Good Bye, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-14
Updated: 2018-03-14
Packaged: 2019-03-31 10:17:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13972938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/auselysium/pseuds/auselysium
Summary: "I knew he was filled with grief when he finally kissed me one last time in one of the bathroom stalls at the Fiumicino Airport -"  Call Me By Your Name, Andre Aciman, Part 4, Ghost SpotsElio and Oliver say goodbye in Rome.





	Fin L'ultimo

Che sarà suo fin l'ultimo  
Sospiro del mio cor.

_For the very last breath of life_   
_Will be for him alone._

Violetta, La Traviata

*

The airport is loud.  Tourists with souvenir stuffed bags.  Businessmen in custom suits. Families and children.  And everywhere, couples. Men and woman, caught in one final embrace before parting.

I envy them.  What I wouldn’t give to hold Oliver’s hand in mine as we walked to his gate.  To hold him and kiss him as many times as I could.

We’d made no plans for this because doing so would only have acknowledged its immediacy.  

Perhaps it would have just been easier to say goodbye at the pensione, our bed still unmade, the bathroom smelling of his shampoo.  And yet, when the times comes I cannot help but stay by his side. It’s where I belong, after all.

_ TWA 3029 New York - JFK   _ _ il volo sarà imbarcato tra 20 minuti _

The announcement, crackling over the terminal's outdated sound system, leaves Oliver’s eyes grim and determined.  They scan right then left. Then with a nod, he directs me to follow.

We go to the men’s bathroom, leaving a subtle distance between us as he seeks out the furthermost stall.  I look over my shoulder, finding no sanctimonious eyes watching us, before closing the metal door behind me.

This is it.   _ Fin l’ultimo _ .  My lips tremble against his.  He clenches the fabric of my shirt,  _ his shirt _ , so hard I can feel my muscles move beneath his finger tips. I hope it bruises.

Everything that could have been said had been this morning.  Half-started promises. Choked out wishes. They’d been as good as any vow.

But caught in this impossible moment, our last, tragic clutch, I beg for more.

“Ask me,”  I say.

His hand stills at the base of my throat, a soft caresses of my open collar.  His eyes glint in the flat fluorescent light.

“Ask and I’ll say ‘Yes’.”

He swallows.  “Come with me.”

“Ok,” I answer readily.  The fantasy tumbles from my mouth and he catches it with his.

“My apartment is tiny.”  He’s breathless. “There’s no room for a piano.”

“It’s ok, I’ll find a studio where I can go practice.  I’d probably drive your roommates mad if I practiced there anyway.”

“No, they’d love you.”

Our smiles are pained, the words so close to some eleventh-hour confession.  

_ TWA volo 3029 a New York- JFK è aperto l'imbarco all’uscita 5. _

It takes him a moment to translate the broadcast, even as I  comprehend immediately. He picks up his bag. We step in close so we can switch positions, him with his back to the door now.  

“You go,” I muster.  

I smooth the hair at the back of his head, press a steadying touch to his shoulders that isn’t quite a push but doesn’t pull him closer either.  

“I’ll be right behind you.”

He leans back in.  Just a quick peck. A see you soon kiss.  It is somehow easier and more unbearable then before.

The door swings open.  He fills the entire metal frame as he turns back to me and for a moment lets all pretense fall from his eyes.  I find it hard to catch my breath.

I  need his reveal, thought, a glimpse of  soul-deep sadness he is feeling too.

“I’ll see you soon, Elio,” he says with rough solemnity.  I nod.  He nods.  _ Addio.  _  Then he’s gone.  

I stagger back, dropping against the tiled wall.  I listen for the next announcement. Then the next.  Then the last.

Then all I hear is sound of the breath in my chest.  It is slow and hollowed out.  Void of any solace from our palliative lies.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Heavily influenced by the Violetta/Germont Act II Duo and the Violetta/Alfredo Act III Duo from La Traviata.
> 
> In the first duo, Violetta promises to sacrifice her love of Alfredo for the sake of Germont's own daughter, giving him up even though he has sworn to love her. She sings that her last breath will be for Alfredo.
> 
> In the second duo, Violetta, who is dying of tuberculosis, sees Alfredo one last time and they imagine what their life will be like together in the future before, before she dies in his arms.
> 
> Incredible moving music that I cannot recommend enough. Fear no opera. :)
> 
> Also, this is way more freaking dramatic than Elio probably was but whatever. I was feeling angsty.
> 
> auselysium on tumblr too!


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